Realization
by Whispers Of The Moon
Summary: this is a weird little jelsi 1shot...kelsi reflects over her past thoughts about relationships and jason, and begins to doubt everything...it's weird. please r&r!


Who will ever see me? The quiet girl with her head down, looking around like she's scared of something that's always there for her to be running from?

They'll see me as one of the crowd. That's what I am - just another face in the crowd. Every person in that crowd has a story to tell. Nobody wants to hear mine, though. If someone notices me, they'll forget.

If they remember, they won't talk to me. They'll think, oh, it's that weird girl who's friends with that Ice Queen girl, the huge drama queen. The one with the geeky theater friends. No, the theater person's friend. Or the hot actress girl's friend. Acquaintance. Whatever they see my friends as, I'll just be those people's friend. No one knows my name - I'm just people's friend. Just another silent face.

If they talk to me, I probably won't answer. I'll look down and say something quietly - something to forget. They'll go off knowing they shouldn't have bothered, because I wasn't worth it.

If I answer, they'll think I'm weird. They'll wonder what the hell I'm talking about and go off and forget about me. Or go and tell their friends how weird I am. Then they'll forget that I ever existed.

If they don't think I'm weird, they won't like me. Not as anything but a friend. They might talk to me sometimes, but I'll be too afraid to open up. They'll never really know me.

If I open up to them, if I start to be myself around them, we've gotten to a point where they'll never like me as anything but a friend. It's a wonder I've been able to keep their attention for so long.

No one's ever gotten past that. Never gotten past being a friend. Even if they were a friend, it was never anyone I even dreamed of going out with. They were all just friends. Just friends…because I could never be anything more.

There will never be a single person who will make it past all this and like me as anything but a friend, if anything. No one will ever see through it all, gain my trust, and be able to like me at all, and have me like them. Never.

Never will the person who I wish more than anything would see past what I hide behind will care enough to look. He won't even talk to me. He'll go to his friends, and they'll remind him why he doesn't like me. He doesn't even need their reminders not to talk to me.

If he ever talked to me, he'd just think of me as a friend. Never anything more. And no matter how much I wish for him to see me as more than his shy little friend, not even a friend, he'll never notice. He'll never know.

So why is he holding me now? Why is he whispering that he loves me? Was this past year not a dream, just another that I will wake up from, to come to the painful realization that I will never be with him?

No. It's real. It's what I never believed. He made it through everything, to this girl hiding behind music and masks, and still wanted to be with me. He loves me. He really does.

It's what I knew could never happen. I don't know if it's real.

His arms are around me, holding me close. He's kissing me, telling me I'm beautiful. It can't be real. It is.

I still wait to wake up from this perfect dream. I want to sleep forever and let it continue, never face the realization that this can never be.

I'm still sleeping, still living this dream. All I can do is hope it lasts.

**I have absolutely no idea where that came from…it actually started out as a journal entry, which is just plain depressing…not saying where the journal ends and the intentional story starts…**

**Sorry this is kinda crackfic-ish in the sense of that it's really disconnected and weird. It's 1 am and I'm dead tired. Go away. No, don't. Sorry. I'm in a bad mood and somehow find it possible to fight with my computer. What's happening is Kelsi is with Jason, and she's thinking back to what she used to think, and her doubts start to come back. Weird, but oh well. Review if…whatever. :P**


End file.
